Learning to Trust
by Robbins2
Summary: Harry is adjusting to life with his new Guardian Severus Snape. After an unscheduled flying attempt, Severus must take his ward in hand. Story contains disciplinary spanking and reference to abuse. Reviews very welcome but please be kind


**DISCLAIMER - I don** **'** **t own Harry Potter or any of these characters and writing this is just for fun.**

 **Learning to Trust**

Harry blinked in the gloom that the single candle perched in a wall bracing above him did little to dispel.

Would he be able to melt into the darkness if he stayed still enough? Simply vanish into the shadows like one of the Hogwarts' ghosts?

Right then, Harry would have liked nothing better. Anything would be preferable to the Fate he was about to meet.

The sharp staccato of swift steps walking on the stone flags of the corridor sounded behind him and as if answering an invisible cue, the dark form of Professor Snape swept into sight.

"Mr. Potter," the silken drawl flowed like silk over steel.

Candle light flickered in the fathomless depths of the black eyes that fixed on Harry but Snape's face was wreathed in shadow and although Harry was trying to gauge his mood, there was no way to read his expression.

The man may as well have taken shape from the very shadows around him. "Professor…. Sir… I'm sorry."

Harry's thoughts were scrambled and his brain couldn't stream coherent thoughts.

He had addressed the Head of Slytherin formally, as he had done for the past month since arriving into the care of his autocratic guardian. In truth, Harry couldn't imagine being comfortable enough around this intimidating man to be familiar.

And certainly not in this moment. Which Harry believed could very likely be his last.

Snape took hold of his arm and flinging open the door to his private chambers, he strode forward, dragging the boy behind him. The child was so slight, Snape may as well as have been hauling a cloud behind him.

"Do you think that I am interested in apologies?" he glowered at the boy, bestowing him with the fierce glare that the students in his house had quailed before for as many years as Severus could remember

It had the desired effect. Snape's knowing eyes saw the boy's colour whiten further, a notable feat for one already so pale. He did not relent. What he had just witnessed was an act of such recklessness that his heart quickened even now just to think of it.

"Your taste for celebrity seems to be pushing you to new heights, quite literally. Your air display was something to see. And you made sure you had a full audience! I suppose we can expect nothing less from the Boy Who Lived."

Snape's temper simmered behind the cold tone he used to deliver his words.

"I can explain. Malfoy started it.. ," Harry's words were almost fastened together so great was his urgency to get them out.

Snape's contempt did not cause him distress, nor his temper, for Harry had dealt with his aunt's cool disdain and his uncle's fierce moods all of his life.

What if Snape sent him back?

That thought caused Harry's throat to tighten so that breath came hard and tears burned behind his eyes. He felt shame spike at this weakness.

"You will not soften me up with tears or with weak minded excuses. Mr Malfoy is not responsible for your actions. You are about to learn that you will face the consequences of your own bad behaviour."

The older wizard rose an eyebrow at the shimmer he saw in the boy's green eyes. If his ward thought that he would manipulate him with tears and emotion, he was much mistaken.

Snape reached out a long fingered hand and took hold of the boy's arm, once again noting as he did so that without exerting any pressure he could easily feel bone beneath the flesh.

The tall man pursed his lips. The child would stick to a sensible and healthy diet and if he had gotten used to his aunt and uncle indulging fussy eating, well, those days were over.

Without speaking further, Snape hauled Harry to his desk, where he perched on the edge and leaned the boy to lie face down across his knee.

It surprised him a little that the child made no attempt to resist or struggle. Yet before he had processed the thought he rose his hand and was about to deliver the spanking his ward so richly deserved.

Snape looked down at the child and his hand stilled in motion. A dark frown creased his sharp features at what he saw. Then comprehension filtered in and Severus Snape felt his heart constrict in his chest.

The child's sweater had rode up under Snape's hold on him. And the exposed skin was mottled with the yellow taint of old bruises.

Harry felt the man's hold on him loosen and the smack he was awaiting did not land.

Instead, he felt himself being set upright, back on his feet. Snape also rose and now, the gaze he rested on Harry was burning, not with annoyance but real anger. Raw, naked fury. Harry had lived long enough with Vernon Dursley to recognise it and his insides turned to water to see it on the Potions Master's face.

So, not a spanking then. Snape had changed his mind, this was going to be worse.

Severus saw the fright in the child's eyes and immediately closed his own, shielding the child from the heat of the emotion that had rose like a tide within him.

Pieces of a puzzle he had not truly examined before this moment were beginning to form an ugly picture in his mind and he knew that he had no desire to visit the child before him with more fear.

The Potions Master was a skilled practitioner of the subtle art of creating menace. He could silence an entire hall of students with a look. Frightening a vulnerable child, well that was something else again.

Thanks to long years of practice, Severus marshalled his emotions before he opened his eyes and set his dark gaze on the puzzled face of the boy.

"The bruises. How did you get them?" he asked.

Harry was so taken aback at the unexpected question that he could not find the words to answer.

Then his colour deepened as embarrassment set in. Snape moved to alleviate it instantly. The child was his ward, his responsibility. He needed the truth.

"No. You do not need to be ashamed. Not with me. I am your guardian and that means that I will keep you safe. I am aware that I have not been entirely approachable but I will not see you hurt, Mr. Potter."

Harry lowered his head and found his gaze resting on Snape's finely polished black shoes. He studied the shine on them as though they were the most fascinating things in the world.

Severus waited into the silence and as he looked down on the tousled dark hair of the boy before him, he realised the child was struggling.

A misplaced loyalty to the monsters who had brought him up was warring with a need to reach out to the hostile stranger who had just been about to give him a good spanking.

Harry was taken by surprise when the Professor reached out to hook a shapely finger under his chin, lifting his face so that his black eyes found Harry's emerald ones and locked his gaze.

"We have not gotten to know much about each other. And it appears that we may both be guilty of forming ideas about the other that are not entirely true," Snape said.

"For my part I have been expecting a spoiled child full of conceited notions. It looks to me as though you have been expecting a fire breathing tyrant. Perhaps we are victims of our reputations, Mr. Potter," Snape's lips curled.

"Do you think we can allow that we both of us may have been in error?"

Harry blinked, caught off guard at the unexpected concession in the older wizard's tone.

"Are you suggesting a fresh start?" he gazed evenly at the dark man.

"Yes. I suppose I am," Snape said, his brows knitting together.

"And, from little I know of starts, fresh or otherwise, there is always tea involved. Would you like some?"

Harry looked at his guardian, took a breath while he waited for the real Professor Snape to emerge.

Then slowly realised that the man was being sincere.

"Yes. Ok then," Harry nodded.

He bit his lip and studied Snape carefully as he might a suspicious Bertie Botts sweet package.

A house elf appeared although Harry had no idea how he had been summoned and began to lay out a steaming teapot, china cups and plates of iced fancies on a side table close to the fire place.

"I thought you were going to…?" Harry couldn't finish the sentence. The sudden change in the direction of this encounter was leaving him uncertain and he did not have a marker to compare it to, not even by the Dursley's less than stable example.

Severus knew what he was asking. He lowered himself into a chair by the fire and indicated by a gesture with one shapely hand that Harry should take the one opposite.

"I made a mistake, child. I was ready to issue a punishment without setting proper ground rules or explaining limits. You may be aware I have a temper of my own and I regret to say that today, it almost got the better of me," the Professor's voice was quiet.

The boy regarded him from across the table.

"I understand," he murmured softly.

"You have been beaten. Many times from what I saw of the bruises on your back. I feel it is imperative to say that there is no point to which my temper rises where it becomes acceptable to beat another person in that way," Severus looked at the boy, saw the flush rise in his cheeks but held the green eyes to his own darker ones.

"And I must ask, though I know it makes you uncomfortable. Are there other marks on you that I have not seen?"

Harry's met his Professor's gaze and question with a deep blush but an honest gaze.

"No, sir," he replied.

The professor gave a curt nod. He poured the tea, his movements graceful and unhurried.

He lifted his cup and sipped from it.

"Those bruises will heal and I can help with that. I will make you a salve. More importantly, Mr. Potter, I will make you a promise that you will never have to endure such an outrage again. Whatever you may think of me, I am not a child beater," Severus eyed the lad carefully.

He knew he was feeling his way and it felt strange to Severus to coax trust.

"I am not afraid of that," Harry said.

Snape's eyebrows rose. If the thoughts of severe beatings did not frighten this boy, then what on earth could?

"Please don't send me back there. Back to them. I shouldn't have been flying. I know I broke the school rules and yours. But do as you will, anything but that. Please don't send me away."

The shameful tears were back, Harry dropped his head, the tea forgotten.

"I have no intention of sending you anywhere. Harry do you hear me now?" Snape spoke firmly, leaning forward in his chair and reaching a hand to grip the boy's quaking shoulders.

This crying was not an act. The child was sobbing his heart out, not to cause Snape guilt and avoid a punishment but begging to let him stay.

The professor stood and rounded the small fireside table and in a move that surprised himself as much as the crying boy, he gathered the child in his arms and returned to his chair, cradling Harry against his shoulder.

"Hush now, child. Here you are and here you stay, " Snape said.

It was several seconds before Harry calmed enough to feel soothed by being held close to another person.

It was a strange and unfamiliar sensation. He began to absorb it gradually. There was the powdery, herbal scent of the man and his robes were soft against Harry's cheek. His arms were strong and Harry felt curiously invincible sheltered within them.

Snape was voyaging through his own journey of uncertainty. Giving comfort did not come naturally to him and he felt completely at sea sitting here with a distraught child cuddled to him, clinging to him as though to a lifeboat in a sea storm.

The strangest thing of all was that the child was actually leaning into him, drawing solace from his embrace. That was new territory for the stern Head of Slytherin house.

And then there was the reason for this flood of tears. The boy was in this state at the prospect of being sent away from his guardian. No, Snape amended, the prospect of being sent back to his aunt and uncle. Just how depraved were they that this boy would regard his austere custodian as the better option?

It was not as though Snape had actually done much to make him feel secure.

Finally, Harry seemed to cry himself out. Still Severus let him cuddle against him. The boy seemed to need the comfort and Merlin knew, it was too long in the coming.

Finally, Harry sniffed quietly and sat upright.

"I'm sorry, Professor," he kept his eyes averted.

Presently, a crisp white handkerchief appeared before him and Harry took it from his guardian's long fingered grasp.

"There is no need for an apology. Not for your tears, child. Honest expression is nothing to be ashamed of.," Severus said evenly.

He hoped that Harry had expelled some of the toxic feelings that had been his burden so far, though his supposed protector had had no clue of their existence.

"Thank you," Harry's voice was so low that Snape wondered if he had imagined hearing the words.

The Potions Master rose a shapely eyebrow.

"Why are you thanking me?" he asked, truly puzzled.

He had been in the process of spanking this child, all set to show the imp exactly who was in charge here. He had allowed a decades old prejudice against a dead man to colour his view of a rival's son and his actions were neither rational nor fair.

Gratitude was not what he deserved. A stint in Azkaban, maybe. To victimise an already traumatised child because he carried old grudges spectacularly well, there was no excuse for that.

"You are letting me stay. Even after I broke the rules," Harry rose damp green eyes and Severus looked deeply into them.

"Your relatives must be quite a ghastly couple if being with me is preferable option," Snape droled.

Harry's brow furrowed as he thought of what it was he wished to say.

"They are, yes. But that's not why I want to stay. I know that you didn't expect to have me just plonked into your life. But .. But even if you are having to make do, you are giving me a home. My own home. I don't want to lose that," Harry said.

Again, Severus squeezed his eyes shut, getting hold of the sadness that threatened to take hold of him.

"You will not lose it. I do not expect you to be a perfect boy, Harry. I expect you to try your best at all times but I am under no illusions that you will succeed at every turn. I am aware that you will make mistakes and when you do there will be consequences," Severus opened his eyes and sought Harry's, holding the child's watery gaze.

"Losing your home here will never be a consequence, no matter what. You have not been plonked into my life. I had a choice. And I have not regretted it."

Severus watched as the light in Harry's eyes ignited, showing that his words were sinking in, the truth in them finding a home in the boy's heart.

"Nor will taking a beating ever be a consequence I will inflict on you. You will never carry the mark of my hand or belt or cane."

Harry knew the Professor spoke the truth as the abhorrence of such a thought showed in his face.

Still his face clouded.

"I can hardly blame you for not believing me, Mr. Potter but I speak that truth. I give you my word," Severus didn't raise his voice but his tone was emphatic.

"I do believe you.," Harry said urgently.

"What then?" Snape pushed, dark eyes narrowing.

"You brought me in here and you were …. You started.. I thought you were going to… well, punish me," Harry stumbled.

"Indeed. And I think it well deserved?" Snape arched a brow as he eyed his errant ward.

Then the Professor blinked.

"You have never been spanked. What you have experienced is, well something else again," Severus lowered his head and expelled a long breath.

Setting Harry on his feet, Snape rose and paced impatiently as he sought to settle the warring thoughts that clashed in his head so that he knew not what direction his own mind was going.

He rose a hand and massaged the skin on his forehead with the pad of his thumb as though the action would bring order to the jumbled thinking that was flashing inside his head.

He paused in his pacing and Severus fell back on a tried and tested method of finding his way. When all reason and rationale failed, his instinct had always proved unerringly true.

So he trusted it now and slowly turned, facing the small boy who stood before him, utterly perplexed.

"I did bring you here to administer a punishment I thought richly deserved. As I told you, I went about it in mistaken way. You have a right to know what to expect if you breach the rules I set for you. I was wrong in not talking with you about this before now," Severus said.

"You told me that I was to show respect for you and my teachers and if I didn't I'd be in trouble. You told me that I am to do as I'm told, that I you expect me to obey the school rules and to obey you. You said I was never to tell you a lie and if I couldn't follow a few simple instructions I could expect to lose some of the privileges I have grown accustomed to."

Harry quoted almost verbatim what the Potions Master had told him when he had first come to live with him.

Even as he recognised the speech, Severus regretted the curtness and severity of his words.

"There are some finer points I may have omitted to mention," he said.

"The loss of privileges I was referring to may include the temporary loss of some freedoms. If you misbehave, you may be grounded. Or find yourself completing extra chores I may set you until I am satisfied you have leaned the lesson I wish to teach you," Severus said.

"You will never lose your place in my home. Or your absolute right to be safe there," Severus held to the boy's gaze to his own as she spoke, letting him see for himself the sincerity there.

"If you do anything to compromise your own safety, or that of your friends or classmates, I will spank you for that. Not beat you or whip you or anything else. Am I clear?"

Severus saw Harry nod but there was no mistaking the look of uncertainty in his eyes. The child had no way of knowing the difference, Snape realised. Physical punishment was one size fits all as far as Harry knew.

"Taking your broom out against the express instructions of your flying instructor qualifies as putting yourself in danger. You could have fallen. And broken every bone in your body!"

Snape's eyes flashed, remembering how he felt seeing the boy soar around the Hogwarts turrets as though borne on the air. It was as close as the Professor cared to get to the feeling of having his heart stop.

In addition though, there was something else. In truth, he was rather proud of the natural ability Harry was showing but he couldn't let his wayward ward know this.

"And so, here we are. I don't make idle threats, Mr. Potter. I said you were to have a spanking and that is exactly what I intend to give you."

In a fluid movement, Snape moved to lift his chair from behind his desk. "Come here," he instructed, giving Harry a stern glower.

He would not pull the child to him. He wanted him to have a degree of control here.

Harry's feet felt glued to the ground. His face whitened and he eyed the tall Professor carefully, weighing up the chances of making a run for it.

"I am not a patient man, Mr. Potter," Snape intoned silkily, the warning unmistakeable behind the quiet tone.

Though Harry truly felt like running in the opposite direction, he sensed he had reached an important moment with his guardian. He had a choice. He could trust the forbidding Potions Master or he could let the fear that gnawed the edges of his consciousness take the lead.

With a courage that surprised himself, Harry let his feet move, first one, then the other until he was standing before Snape.

The man took hold of his arm and without another word, he leaned the child across his lap.

The older wizard did not have the stomach for this but the instinct within him told him that the best way to teach Harry that he would not hurt him when delivering a punishment was to show him.

The small form on his lap was rigid, clearly bracing himself for pain. At that moment, Snape would have traded his soul for three minutes with the monsters who had instilled such fear in a small boy. He pushed the anger down. This was not the time.

He raised his hand and brought it down, once, twice, again and again. He felt the boy tremble as tears came. He delivered one more smack and laid his hand, palm down on the child's back, waiting for him to calm.

Harry had no idea why he was crying. The Professor had smacked him and yes, it stung but it did not hurt.

Then, Severus was rubbing soft circles on his back and it felt soothing and Harry realised with a start that his punishment had ended.

Presently, he was lifted upright and Harry could not see clearly through the film of tears that turned the world into soft focus.

He made out the dark robes of the man he had believed an enemy and felt a shift within himself.

Harry had never let himself need another person but somehow, a seed had taken root and he wanted to feel like he was part of something, that the home the Professor had spoken of was real. It was a dream that Harry had longed for all of his life, even as he had never truly expected it to come true.

Severus knew very well that he had hurt the child's pride more than his person but still, seeing the child cry caused him a misery that was entirely new.

Again, guided by instinct, he opened his arms and let the child burrow against his chest.

He hugged him as the sobs shook his shoulders and then eased to quiet sniffling sounds.

"It's done, child. You are alright," he said softly. Harry hiccupped and rose his head to give Severus a watery look.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"You are forgiven. Just remember that life will be much easier on both of us if you will try to obey a few simple rules. Starting with staying away from anything that will result in giving me a heart attack," Severus said.

Harry's brows knitted in confusion.

"It clearly surprises you to think that your actions affect me also. I have no wish to see you fall victim to that reckless sense of adventure you are so fond of."

It was true, Harry had not thought of that. Looking at his teacher's firmly set features, he knew he had spoken the truth. It made guilt squirm in his tummy.

Snape's keen eyes did not miss the shadow of it flitting in the green eyes.

"Punishment over, Mr. Potter. I said you are forgiven and you are. We will put this behind us," he said.

"Harry,"

Severus almost missed the single word, so quietly was it spoken.

He frowned and leaned toward the boy.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Harry. Can you just call me Harry? It's much less scary when you do," Harry whispered.

"We are both learning. This as new to me as it is to you but I think with a little bit of effort from each of us we can make it work. What say you, Harry?"

Maybe it was hearing his given name on his guardian's lips or maybe it was the growing belief that things might be okay in spite of everything but Harry was suddenly smiling.

"I would like that, Professor."

"Severus. In private you may call me Severus. I will expect to be addressed as Professor or Sir when we are in school,"

The Potions Master waited, watching thoughts he could not read fly over the boy's face.

"Severus,"

It sounded like he was testing the word but he had obviously decided he liked how it sounded on his tongue.

"I think the fresh start idea of yours sounds good, Severus. I want to try," Harry looked up into the midnight eyes of his guardian.

"Then we are agreed, child."

Harry could not quite understand the feeling of contented optimism that was settling on him, in fact it was so new that he barely recognised the emotion.

There was something reassuring in the frank way the Professor met his eyes and though stern and forbidding, his demeanour gave the promise of power and security.

Maybe it was that Harry craved it so much or maybe, just maybe that strength could be a shelter for Harry, a place to grow and feel safe.

Maybe Harry thought, maybe he had come home.


End file.
